Break
by csiphile
Summary: Now a completed three shot about what happens when Ziva's father shows up without warning in DC. TIVA.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Break

Author: csiphile/redwing

Rating: T – there are a couple bad words though.

Summary: Based on the spoilers that the arrival of Ziva's father causes this season's first big Tony/Ziva moment (hey, it was on , that's fair game).

Disclaimer: Yeah, guess what? I no own-y.

Reviews are always welcome lovely readers, even for a one shot. So press the magic button at the bottom. Thanks!

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Time is a funny thing. When you are doing something enjoyable, an hour feels like a minute; when you are doing something boring or undesirable then an hour feels like four. A second of kissing someone is infinitely more pleasurable then the second where a bullet rips through you. The moment you are faced with your greatest nightmare can erase what had started as a beautiful day.

And what can happen in an instant can break even the strongest of us.

Today it had.

Maybe Gibbs' tone when he commanded them to the Directors office should have given something away. Or the one second – but heavily laden – pause from him on the phone. Like there was something else he wanted to say, but something – or one – was preventing him. Or the way the new directors assistant gave the group a nervous look as McGee opened the door.

But it didn't, so it had.

And what happened in the next instant broke his partner.

Standing in front of Vance's desk was none other than the Director of Mossad, Eli David. With an expression on his face that could only be described as shit-eating.

If he was shocked by the man's appearance Tony could only imagine what Ziva was feeling. And since the woman in question was standing stock still in front of him, radiating anger even he picked up on, Tony shifted his gaze to his boss, who was studying Ziva's face with fatherly concern from his place near the conference table.

Which was more than Tony could say about her _actual _father, who was giving her an expression that clearly conveyed he felt he had won whatever game Eli was playing.

When he took another step toward her back – he said he would always have it – placing them in each other's personal space, Gibbs finally acknowledged his Senior agents presence and the older man's expression told Tony all he needed to know. Gibbs was less than pleased with the manner in which Director David had both shown up at NCIS and presented himself to his estranged daughter.

As the silence stretched into what seemed like minutes, but was probably only seconds, all Tony could think about was he wanted to get his partner the hell out of there. But none of the plans that his mind came up with would keep him employed – or out of jail - so instead he stood silently behind her. Protecting her as best he could. Not physically protecting her, Tony was certain that would never happen except in the highly unlikely scenario where she was unconscious. No, in this case, she needed to be emotionally protected. From her own father. Yeah, there was something seriously screwed up about that.

Finally she spoke, her attention turned to the other Director in the room, "Director Vance, you asked for us."

With those words, and her complete disregard of her father's presence, Tony felt her take back the room. Clearly the Mossad Director had expected some kind of reaction from her; instead he got an icy welcome and dismissal. Tony couldn't have been more proud of her.

"Yes, I did. Director David has requested our assistance…"

What followed was a long briefing on an AWOL Mossad officer with intelligence that could destroy the agency. Basically Director David was asking MCRT to assist in the recovery since the last Mossad knew said agent was in DC. Tony suspected the real reason for his visit was more personal in nature; this meeting could have easily been achieved through video conference.

As they stood to leave – the group had seated themselves at the conference table, with Ziva between Tony and Gibbs and as far from her father as possible – Director David reached out and grasped Ziva's arm.

"Might I have a word with you, Officer?"

The look she gave him would have killed a lesser man. "It is Agent. And no; anything you have to say to me can be relayed by Agent Gibbs or Director Vance."

And with that she pulled her arm away, continuing to the door, where Gibbs stopped her, indicating for McGee and Tony to pass through as he spoke to her in low tones.

All Tony could see as he passed by was Ziva shaking her head slightly and Gibbs gently rubbing her back. Tony figured his Boss' overtly fatherly behavior toward her while Eli was still in the room was intentional, and Tony admired his boss just a little bit more in that moment.

As McGee silently returned to the bullpen, Tony leaned against the railing outside the office, waiting for her. It wasn't two minutes before his partner appeared, her eyes red and brimming with unshed tears.

Seeing him had felt like a knife to her heart. Pain had radiated through her body at the sight of the man she despised so much and had hoped to never see or speak to again. But, good agent that she was, Ziva pressed that feeling back and instead let anger take its place. Anger she could use, anger would get her through this and keep her from falling into pieces on the floor.

That and Tony and Gibbs. She had felt her partner move subtly closer to her and she watched her father give him a curious glance. Even her brain hated using that word in reference to Eli David; he was a father only in the genetic sense to her. The closest thing she had to a father was watching her with careful concern etched onto his features.

Ignoring the Director of Mossad completely - Ziva knew she would have to end the stalemate - she turned to the NCIS director and ended the silence. The next two hours had gone by in a blur and the next thing she knew, Ziva was standing at the door with Gibbs' hand on her back and an order to go home in her ear. Initially she had resisted, until Gibbs' reminder that her father would continue to meet with Vance through the evening convinced her to leave. That and the tears that were starting to form and threatening to fall. The anger had faded some, which was allowing pain and confusion to wash over her in waves.

Stepping out of the door she was unsurprised to find Tony leaning casually against the railing and as soon as he saw her he rose up and took one step in her direction.

Initially she stepped toward him, opening her mouth, but quickly realized that speaking would start the waterfall of tears, which she did _not _want to do here. So she stopped quickly, pressed her lips together tightly and shook her head, which stopped him in his tracks. Taking in the concern on her partners face, Ziva quickly turned left and walked briskly to the small bathroom around the corner.

Closing the door behind her, she walked to the sink and gripped the edge of the marble counter, which right now was the only thing keeping her from falling to the floor.

The ghosts from a year and a half ago came flooding back to her in a mess of memory and feelings, it was overwhelming her senses. Ghosts of leaving her teammates, of trusting the wrong people, of being left – abandoned really – in Somalia, of the torture she endured for four long months. Now she alternated between wanting to punch something and wanting to curl into a ball on the floor. Instead, she settled on gripping the counter tighter, finally let the tears fall while crying silently.

And it angered her on top of everything else that just seeing her father had started this…this spiral she was in. A spiral of losing control of her emotions, which was something Ziva David simply did not do. There had been actual physical pain at seeing Eli standing there, a dull throb that radiated through her chest and stomach, before she had taken control. But now that he was no longer standing in front of her, the pain was back, accompanied by fear and loss and something she could not identify.

Taking several steps backwards she leaned against the wall and allowed the emotion to take over, slumping down the wall until she was sitting on the floor with her head in her hands, crying openly.

Tony let out a long sigh as Gibbs opened the door, looking around.

"Bathroom," was all the agent said.

"Take her home; make sure she stays there tonight. Do not let David near her, call me if he tries."

Tony cocked his head slightly at that comment. "You think he would do something?"

"Not physically, no." The implication was clear.

"Got it, boss."

Gibbs eyed him a moment before continuing, "She needs you, Tony."

Suddenly unable to meet his boss' gaze, Tony looked down at his shoes. "I know."

"So, go…" Gibbs said and nodded toward the bathroom.

Nodding wordlessly he followed the path Ziva had just taken, pausing as he came to the closed door. Pausing before opening it, Tony paused, listening to what he thought was crying coming from the other side. Heaving another long sigh he turned the door handle without even knocking, they both knew he would follow and she had not prevented it by locking the door to keep him out.

He could hear her attempting to control the sobbing as he closed the door. It actually hurt his soul to hear her cry like that, mostly because he had never heard the sound coming from her before. And at the same time anger flowed through him at her bastard of a father.

Silently he walked toward the sink, grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter, and then returned to her, sliding down the wall next to her; his shoulder touching hers. By now Ziva's sobbing had reduced to loud hiccups, and he handed her the tissue without any other comment about it.

"Thank you," she muttered and dabbed under her eyes, cleaning up some of the mascara that had smeared. "I…I do not know. I do not know what to do, what to think. It is all…" she lifted her hands and waved them around. "jumbled in my head." He nodded for her to continue. "All I can think is he left me there. He…convinced me that you were not to be trusted, that my _family _was the only ones to trust. He sent me to Somalia; he said the mission had to be completed at all costs." Now she took a deep breath, the tears starting to return. "Then he left me there. To rot."

"He didn't know…"

"I read the report, Tony. The sudden 'increased Mossad activity' in the Sahara, he knew I was alive. But I was…damaged goods after Michael and the failure on the Damocles and he threw me aside."

"_You _don't know that."

She shrugged and when she spoke her voice cracked, "I know him." With that new tears flowed down her cheeks.

"Ziva," he whispered and wrapped one arm around her, pulling her body into his, her face buried the in crook of his shoulder. After several minutes of silence, punctuated by an occasional sob from his partner, he placed a light kiss on the top of her head. "Let's get you home."

"No," she said and pulled her head away from him.

"Ziva…"

"I need a drink."

A broad smile crossed his face. "There is a new bar a few blocks from my apartment. Good food, dueling pianos…"

With her leading the way they both stood, facing each other for a long moment. "Thank you, Tony." She reached up and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "For everything."

"Anytime…let's get out of here."

"Afer you…" she said and took his hand in hers.

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End?

Ok, so initially this was going to be a oneshot, but I'm debating writing the scene at the bar. If you would like to see such a scene let me know and I will do my best to oblige. Again, feel free to leave a review!


	2. Lie To Me

Title: Break

Author: csiphile/redwing

Rating: Standing steady at T

Summary: You asked for it, you get it – the bar scene.

AN1: This went somewhere slightly unintended, though I think I like how it came out – it feels…true. The ending is just a touch…mushier then I expected. But who am I to argue with the muse? While chapter one was mostly action, this one is a lot of talking and introspection.

AN2: Ok, so initially it was a one shot…then I wrote the bar scene and it became a two shot. Now I'm contemplating writing a Ziva/Eli scene. Interested? Not 100% how it would play out, but I might be willing to give it a shot…

AN3: Ok, one last thing. I have a multi-chapter post Rule-51 (that is now AU since the premiere) that I need a beta for. Anyone willing to help correct grammar and get a sneak peek as a bonus? It's about…10 chapters. Message me if you have interest.

Disclaimer: I checked REALLY hard and yeah, I still don't own them.

Reviews are lovely! Please push the little talky icon down there and let me know what you thought!

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CHAPTER TWO – Lie to Me

Intimacy means different things to different people. To some it is merely the act of sex, to others it is what the act means, to know someone so completely and thoroughly. It can also be familiarity, of a place, thing or even a person. Knowing what makes them tick, anticipating what they will do or say. Being in tune enough to know when to abide by a request to be left alone and when to ignore it.

Feeling in your soul they can't be gone, even when the rest of the world accepts they are.

Wishing the cause of their pain was dead.

Being with them when their world falls apart.

At some point between leaving the Navy Yard and finding two seats at one end of a dimly lit u-shaped bar, Tony wondered how it was possible to be so intimately connected with a person, and yet feel so far away from them.

Especially when that person was sitting right next to him at that dimly lit bar, quickly downing her first shot of tequila. And he could tell she was hurting badly, but trying to hide it from him - and doing so rather unsuccessfully.

Tony suddenly had a feeling maybe taking her to a bar wasn't such a good idea. Vulnerability radiated off her every pore and alcohol wasn't going to make that better.

"Lie to me, Tony," she said as she knocked back a second shot of tequila, placing the glass upside down on the bar top and looking at him expectantly. It was the first words she had spoken since they left the yard.

"About what?" he asked even though he knew.

Waving at the bartender, she indicated another shot before answering, "My father. Tell me that his visit is professional only and he is not here to…" He could see her struggling with the correct slang term. "…screw with me."

Tony looked at her sadly; he couldn't lie to her, not now. Not after everything they had gone through, a lie, no matter how well intentioned, would do nothing for the trust they had regained. Eli David was here to get under his daughters skin as much as he was here to ask for help. And he told her as much.

"I can't lie to you, Ziva."

A third shot glass was placed in front of her, but she didn't acknowledge the man who brought it, attention focused on her partner. Saying nothing, she picked up the glass and quickly downed the clear liquid, again placing it upside down on the bar.

"I know," she finally said softly.

Not for the first time that day Tony had the urge to strangle her father. Or at the very least forcibly put him on a plane back to Israel.

"This…'case' could have easily been communicated without a special visit. He wanted to come to make a point; that he can still break me." Sudden tears threatened her eyes for a moment but she quickly blinked them back. Despite the darkness of the bar and the darker corner they found themselves in, Ziva would not allow even one tear to shed; her father was not worth it.

He considered that a moment before responding, "I wish I had an answer, Ziva. I really do. I wish I could tell you that everybody has problems with their fathers and its normal and fine, but you know, I think your case is a little more…unique than most."

A strange look crossed her face. "Unique. I am not sure that is the word I would use."

"What would you use?"

"Fucked up."

He laughed lightly at her use of English. "That's two words. But accurate."

For several long minutes she was silent, staring into the empty glass that sat on the bar in front of her. It was still a jumbled mess in her head; she could barely begin to sort through it. And tonight was not the best time to try; the emotions were too raw. That and she already had three shots of Patron running through her. But still, she could see the look on the Eli's face when they had first walked into the office. She knew that expression; it was the one he frequently gave people when he knew something they didn't. And he was going to use that information against them.

Looking over at his partner Tony became alarmed at the expression on her face so he placed a gentle hand on her arm, rubbing gently. "Ziva?" Her head snapped up at him, confusion written all over her features. "What are you thinking?"

"I do not know," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I am trying to…sort it out. But every time I try, I just…" She didn't want to say it, to admit how much her father's presence had bothered her, how much it had sent her into a tailspin. This was not how a former Mossad operative behaved. "I do not know what is wrong with me. I am…"

"Human?" he asked without a trace of teasing, turning fully to face her. "You aren't Mossad anymore, you don't have to lock feelings and emotion behind walls because if you don't they get you killed. You are an American, an NCIS agent, and those feelings you hate to acknowledge? Now they make you better at what you do. And they make you a better person."

"We were always taught emotions make you weak, distract you from the job at hand."

"By who, your father?"

Something close to irritation crossed her face. "It is not that easy, Tony. When you have a way of life practically beaten into you, change is…difficult."

"But you _have _changed. And that's the problem, isn't it? Five years ago you would have just…locked those feelings away somewhere inside that ninja brain of yours and moved on. Now," he shrugged. "Now they aren't locked away. And they hurt."

Looking into herself, she knew he was right. It wasn't so long ago that Ziva would have taken her father's behavior as normal and expected. Why should he come get her? She had failed her mission, not only was Salim alive, but the Damocles was at the bottom of the ocean and Ben was too injured to continue. A failure on many levels, she deserved what she got for such a catastrophe.

But she didn't. No one deserved to be abandoned by their flesh and blood in hell. She realized that now, and it had taken the people that she turned her back on to help her realize that.

And it did hurt. More than she expected.

Waving down the bartender she indicated another shot.

Instead of pushing emotion to the side and pretending it didn't bother her, she allowed it to rush over her. She deserved a life, her worth was no longer measured by successful missions, and by how well she followed orders or how many enemies she killed. For far too long she allowed her training to override basic human needs and wants, even after several years at NCIS it was difficult to let go of what her father had made her. Probably because in the back of her head she was prepared to return to her former life; now there was no chance of that.

A glass was dropped in front of her and she stared at the liquid a moment. Once she had returned from Africa, she had let go of what her father had made her little by little, but she never spoke of the atrocities from last year and never of anything leading up to being left on a tarmac in Israel, either.

Of all her regrets in life, that was her biggest. She wished that it hadn't taken such extreme measures to make her realize who could be trusted.

Lifting the glass she downed it quickly, the liquid burning a path down her throat. It didn't help.

"Tony," she finally said, her voice cracking, she could feel the tears starting again.

"Yeah?" he asked. He had been studying her carefully as she had stared at the last shot, wondering what had been going through her head.

"Can we leave?"

Without a word he pulled out his wallet and dropped enough cash on the bar to cover her shots and a generous tip, then standing he held her light jacket as she slipped into it wordlessly.

As they stepped out into the cool air she paused and took a deep breath. "Can we walk?"

Again he agreed, taking her hand gently and guiding her in the direction of his apartment. With or without Gibbs' order to stay with her tonight, Tony certainly would not have allowed his partner to be alone. And he suspected she knew this, which was why there had been no discussion about staying with him.

That and she was clearly too emotionally drained to put up a fight about much.

The walk was brief and mostly silent and before she knew it, Ziva was standing in his living room, realizing an immediate problem that hadn't occurred to her until now. She had no clothes, no sleepwear, not even a toothbrush. And her partner had disappeared down the hall.

Shrugging out of her jacket she slumped into the comfortable couch she had convinced Tony to buy after his incessant complaining about the massage chair. If he was going to fall asleep watching movies and stay there, she didn't want to hear him whine every morning about his back. Leaning her head back her eyes just started to slip closed as she heard her partner return.

Opening her eyes back up, she watched as he placed a small pile next to her on the arm of the couch.

"Enjoying the couch?" he asked with a smirk.

"It is very comfortable, yes."

"You would know, you sat in it for thirty minutes at the store."

"You could not continue to sleep in that chair, Tony."

"Yeah, yeah…" he muttered, knowing she was right. Finally he pointed at the pile. "Something I hope will be suitable for sleeping, towel for a shower if you want to take one and a new toothbrush. We'll go back to your place in the morning for clothes."

She nodded dumbly at her partner, secretly glad he had made decisions for her. It was all she could do to function normally, much less make a logistical decision.

He continued, "You take the bed, Ill take the couch."

Standing directly in front of him, Ziva placed both hands on his chest. "Thank you, Tony. Again."

He placed his hands over hers and looked directly in her eyes, his gaze never wavering. "You do not have to face him alone, or at all."

Sliding one hand out from under his, she cupped his cheek gently, running her thumb across the stubble on his face. "I know." And she leaned in, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. "You _are_ my friend, Tony." With that she picked up the clothes, "I will be back."

It wasn't five minutes and she returned wearing a pair of his boxers as shorts and tanks tops as a shirt; both were large on her, but not so big as to fall off. Clearly she had forgone a shower. Tony stared for several long seconds before turning back to what he had been doing while she was in the bathroom; setting up the couch.

Eyeing the couch, then her partner, Ziva slid next to him, touching his bare arm gently with her fingertips, her voice low and dangerous.

"You do not need to sleep on the couch, Tony. We have shared a bed many times." The tone was familiar; Tony had heard it before from women prior to taking them home.

She wasn't really sure what had possessed her, but standing there in her partner's clothes, her head slightly fuzzy from the alcohol and her nose filled with his scent, all she wanted was to forget the afternoon and focus on something else. And sex had always been effective for her in the past.

A sad smile ghosted his face before he shook his head, he feared what would happen if they did. If she turned to him for physical comfort Tony wasn't sure he would be able to say no if he was already in bed with her. And one thing he was sure of, sex wouldn't help anything right now. "Not this time."

A resigned look crossed her face swiftly to be replaced by a guilty one. He was right; the worst thing they could do would be sleep together. "I am sorry. I should not have…"

"Don't worry about it, never happened."

Tears stung at her eyes again. "You have been…my rock today. I will not forget it."

A sly smile crossed his face. "You better not. This is Tony DiNozzo at his best."

A broad smile crossed her face. "Nowhere to go from here then; good to know."

"Hey now," he protested weakly.

"Goodnight, Tony."

"Night Ziva. If you need me, I'll be on the comfy couch."

A small nod preceded her turning and heading down the hall, closing the bedroom door halfway behind her.

Tony only hoped they would survive tomorrow.

END


	3. 6 Gun Quota

Title: Break

Author: redwing/csiphile

Rating: Still T.

Summary: Ziva confronts her father.

An: This is officially the end of the road for this one folks. Please still review, they keep me motivated for the next one that's coming down the road (mostly done even!). Eli is a bit hard to write, I think because we haven't actually seen much of him, just implied stuff mostly. Which is why he doesn't do a ton of talking, but I hope you enjoy the result!

THANK YOU for all the wonderful reviews/alerts to this story from the bottom of my heart. They make me so happy to see in my email box, they put a big ol smile on my face. I have to admit, this is now one of my favorites. I think because I tend to do more…action-y fics and this one is more emotional.

Chapter Three – 6 Gun Quota

Touch can convey many things. It is necessary for survival – an infant denied human contact will fail to thrive. It can convey affection, interest in another person or even love. It can provide comfort to those who are hurting - physically and emotionally.

Touch can bring much pleasure.

And equal pain.

"Ziva, dear, if you do not want your lip to swell, you must leave the ice pack on it," the older man admonished her.

Muttering in Hebrew, Ziva placed the pack to her split lip, hissing at the contact. Lying on her back on one of Ducky's autopsy tables Ziva wondered how she had allowed herself to get as injured as she was. A long sigh escaped her lips and she shifted to relive some of the pain on her ribs, earning her another lecture.

"And if you do not wish to have a rather ugly scar on your side, you must hold still. Stitches that don't leave scars are not my specialty. You should have gone to the ER, Ziva."

"I tried to tell her that," Tony finally piped up from her right and she sent him a scathing look before turning back to the doctor.

"Scars are the least of my worries, Ducky. As you can see I already have plenty."

"Not the point, Ziva," her partner muttered and again she gave him a look. "What? You're the one that went off all half cocked on the AWOL Mossad agent."

An exasperated noise came from her. "She was going to get away!"

"That doesn't mean you ignore protocol and follow her into an abandoned warehouse without backup!"

"I called." Now her voice was a little quieter. Ziva knew she had hopelessly broken protocol, but at the time hadn't cared.

"You called after you followed her downtown, not when you spotted her in Arlington! There wasn't enough time to get backup there before you two started World War Three."

"I captured her!"

"Yeah, and you got a split lip, two cracked ribs, stitches and too many bruises to count as a consolation prize!"

Both of their voices had risen during the conversation and a staring match ensued, which was broken by Ducky placing a bandage on the newly stitched wound and announcing, "You are all set my dear. I'll let you two…discuss."

As he stood to leave Ziva stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Thank you, Doctor."

He patted her shoulder gently. "Take the motrin every six hours, if the pain gets unmanageable or you start to feel dizzy or vomit go to the ER, no arguments."

"Yes, Ducky."

Taking a moment to stare up at the autopsy light Ziva considered her options before quickly settling on one and attempting to sit up. Unfortunately, her cracked ribs had other ideas and as she started to sit pain coursed through her side and she fell right back to the table, allowing frustration to show.

Suddenly a hand was held out to her and she took it, allowing Tony to assist her in righting herself on the table and she turned toward him, her legs dangling between them. Silence reigned for several seconds as she stared fascinated at his blue striped tie.

"I apologize, it was…inadvisable to go after her by myself," she said without looking up.

Warm fingers touched the bottom of her chin, tilting her head up. "You scared the hell out of me, Ziva. You've been acting reckless since your father showed up."

"I did not mean to." She swallowed thickly and the hand that had been on her chin moved down her neck to rest gently on her shoulder. "I wanted him gone, Tony. And the fastest way to achieve that was to catch her."

His other hand moved slowly up to her face, fingertips skimming the skin where the worst of the bruising was; over her left temple, cheekbone and jaw. Finally his fingers came to a rest on her jaw, thumb hovering over the split part of her lip.

"And if she killed you?" he asked and pulled the hand on her face back, leaving the one resting on her shoulder.

"She did not." Her protest sounded weak, even to her.

"But she could have and dammit Ziva, would it have been worth it?"

"No."

"Ok, then."

She looked at him curiously. "That is it?"

Shrugging he smiled. "I get it, I do. It's been a rough – and long – three days. And while I don't approve of the method, I sure am thrilled with the result."

Giving him a tired smile, she finally gave into the exhaustion that had been lingering for three days and leaned forward as he stepped toward her – placing his legs on either side of hers – and rested her forehead on his chest, closing her eyes. What she wouldn't give for a warm bed and two days to sleep.

Stepping closer to her, he sat her up somewhat, allowing her upper body to rest fully against him, her arms tucked between them, and placed his hands on her back, slowly rubbing up and down across the tight muscles. They had been going nearly non-stop in an effort to locate the Mossad operative, sleeping when they could between leads – usually at their desks. It hadn't helped that Eli David had felt compelled to stay as close to the investigation as possible, pushing all of their buttons – but Ziva's especially.

Until the time Tony received Ziva's frantic call that she had located their target, he was confident the tension between his partner and her father would boil over into an international incident. Since then the elder David had been suspiciously quiet, almost as though he had expected them to fail and was speechless at their success. Tony wasn't even sure he knew how badly injured his daughter was, she had disappeared quickly into the morgue to be tended to by Ducky before his arrival.

She let out a low moan as he hit a particularly tight spot and concentrated his actions there. If any good had come from her father's unexpected visit it was that she and Tony had grown intensely closer in a short time period. They had always been close, especially after Africa, but there had been a subtle shift in their relationship since he had made the 'contents…priceless' comment to her. It was almost as if they were allowed to acknowledge the feelings they had held so close for so long.

Since the arrival of Eli David and her breakdown in the bathroom, Tony had been quick with a subtle touch to her arm or back when others were around to let her know he was there. During the brief moments they were left alone he would invade her personal space, asking if she was alright, holding her hand loosely, or wrapping her up in his arms when it got really bad; she knew her partner could sense when she was close to losing it.

When he stopped rubbing her back - pulling his hands away - she let out a noise of disappointment into his chest.

"Come on," he said into her hair. "Let's get out of here. I don't know about you, but I could use some sleep."

Smiling inside she nodded silently and moved to get off the table, letting loose a string of swear words as pain shot across her left side. Suddenly she doubted the decision not to go to the hospital.

Concern was etched on his face as she came to stand in front of him. "Maybe we should take you to Bethesda…"

As she opened her mouth to resist the idea, she heard the doors behind her open and felt Tony instantly tense, a hard look on his face. Only one person could cause that reaction and she slowly turned around, coming face to face with Eli.

"Director," she said coldly and started to walk around the table she had previously been lying on, intent on leaving, Tony close behind.

"Ziva," the older man said softly and she stopped in front of him, but out of arms reach. Tony watched as the Mossad Director looked over his daughter carefully before speaking again. "Are you all right?"

"I am fine," she stated simply and Tony knew that tone, he had heard it many times before when she clearly was not fine but wouldn't admit it.

Eli gave Tony a brief glance before addressing his daughter. "Can we have a moment alone?"

"Anything you want to say to me can be said in front of my partner," she said and crossed her arms across her chest loosely, clearly closed off from the conversation.

"I do not think Agent DiNozzo…" he started in Hebrew, effectively leaving Tony out of the conversation.

She responded quickly in English. "I do not care what you think Director. I would like to go home, so if there is nothing further…"

A look of resignation mixed with irritation crossed the older man's face as he responded in English. "Fine, Ziva. I know that you do not want anything to do with me, but I would like to at least be able to have a civil conversation with you."

"Perhaps you should have thought about that a year and a half ago," she practically spat at him.

"Ziva, _bat_…"

Now her voice was dangerous and Tony could feel the anger starting to rise up and he moved to her side. "Do not call me that, you lost that right when you left me to die in the desert."

The Director visibly bristled. "You knew the risks when you accepted the mission, Ziva."

"Yes I did and foolishly I went. But you knew I survived the Damocles sinking and did not even attempt to retrieve me."

Eli shook his head. "We searched for signs of you, but no one could confirm you were alive after reaching the camp, Ziva."

"Spare me, Father. When my body did not turn up you had to suspect I was a captive." The expression on her father's face confirmed her suspicion.

"Come now Ziva, you know rescue was not an option."

"You mean you did not want it to be. Have enough respect to admit that I was damaged goods to you. After Rivkin, then the Damocles and finally Salim, I was no longer a suitable Mossad agent, was I? I am certain your reputation took a hit when your only child was unable to complete her first mission back, it was better to just…leave me for dead. An agent who died in the line of duty was far more advantageous for you."

Tony stared at her in disbelief; did she honesty think her father had made a strategic decision to abandon her? The look on the Mossad Directors face told him all he needed to know.

Ziva was right on target; and Tony immediately felt sick to his stomach.

Finally the stoic mask returned to Eli's face and he spoke in an angry tone, "Such accusations should be kept to yourself, _Agent_."

"It is fact."

Anger flared in his eyes. "I am still your father, Ziva..."

"NO! You are no father and you never were. It was _always _Mossad first, and there never seemed time for family. We were…tools to be used for the cause. At least Ari and I were; sometimes I think Tali was the lucky one."

Tony watched the Director flinch at the mention of his long dead son and daughter.

"Did you even think about what would happen in Somalia? Did you?" She could hear the hard edge to her voice, but couldn't contain it any longer; this was the man who had left her.

"You were trained for those kinds of situations," he stated simply.

Ziva was unsurprised by his response, Eli could justify any action if he tried hard enough and her substantial training was an easy enough excuse for him.

"Of course, I did not give up any information; I _was _trained too well for that, Father. But did you consider they would not kill me after realizing this? That they would hold me and do unspeakable things?"

The Mossad director backed away subtly, clearly stung by his daughters words, but she advanced, closing the distance, anger flowing freely now. "Salim was…creative with his torture, I will give him that. But he was also vicious and unrelenting. I was denied sleep, food, light, comfort, treated like an animal…" Now her voice wavered, physical and emotional exhaustion taking over, and again she felt tears burning behind her eyes but held them back. Under no uncertain terms would she cry in front of Eli. "Beaten, strangled, whipped, raped. And the only person…people…willing to avenge my death was the ones you had convinced me not to trust."

Now he older man looked stung, clearly he had not expected such an outburst.

"You are nothing to me, my father is dead. Do not attempt to contact me. Ever."

With that she walked to the doors, and as they swished open she turned back. "Goodbye, Eli."

Tony followed her through the doors and to the stairwell, where she stopped at the first turn up to the main floor, scratching her right ear as she turned in small circles, clearly trying to work off the anger.

Instead of speaking, Tony stood to the side, allowing her to calm down. And eventually she stopped moving and looked at him, something akin to relief in her eyes.

"Feel better?" he finally asked with a smile.

"You have no idea."

"Yeah, probably not..."

Letting out a sigh she gave him a long look. "Take me home?"

"Best offer I've had all day," he responded and followed her up to the empty squadroom where they collected their things and made a quick exit.

"Stay with me?" She asked unsurely as they stepped into the NCIS parking garage.

"I retract my last statement…" he joked before turning to her with a serious expression. "Are you sure?"

A small smile graced her face. "Sleep only, Tony."

A small nod then he guided her to his car.

An hour later they were curled up in her bed, Tony curved around her back protectively, one arm wrapped around her waist, his forehead resting lightly on her shoulder, breath warming her skin. It was the most relaxed she had been in days.

"Thank you," she whispered into the dark, certain her partner was sleeping.

Until a light kiss was dropped on the exposed skin next to her tank top strap and an equally quiet "Always, _yafa sheli_" was whispered back.

Now the tears she tried to contain where not of anger or pain, but of joy and it wasn't long after that Ziva drifted into sleep, content at last.

END

Yafa sheli = my beautiful one

Bat = daughter

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